


Tactical Advantage

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, M/M, No Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-07-28
Updated: 2003-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-27 04:49:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12073851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Brian seems to have done a complete 180 after the infamous Rage Party.





	Tactical Advantage

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

The sight sent shockwaves through the inhabitants of Liberty Avenue. 

It was something that none of them had thought they would ever live to see. Or, if they had, that it would be the final sign of an impending apocalypse. And even though it had been nearly six months since the royal couple had parted ways under less than amicable circumstances the sight of the more infamous of the pair strutting around with a new partner was thought to be an impossibility. Everyone agreed that it was Justin who should have found a new boyfriend and despite his having left in the arms of another man, that relationship had proved to be non-existent. 

No one, not even his best friend, could rationalize Brian’s supposed relationship with James Braden. 

Brian and James’ relationship had started off in a surprisingly innocent manner. Far more innocent than his one with Justin had begun. 

A spilled cup of coffee. 

Brian had been crossing the sidewalk, about to enter his building, latte in hand when he had crashed into someone walking in front of the door. The top of Brian’s latte had gone flying off, sending the hot drink inside spraying over both men. Being Brian Kinney, the ad exec had spewed forth a slew of obscene curses at the unsuspecting man. And as soon as Brian had finished what he had to say, the other man started up his rant, fuming just as loudly as Brian had. 

Having been caught so completely off guard, Brian unwittingly found himself inviting the guy up to his loft to clean himself off. Surprisingly enough, the guy assented and followed after Brian as he entered the building. Whatever happened in there that Saturday afternoon had been lost in the annals of Liberty lore, but before the week was out it was common knowledge that Brian and James were an item. 

And while it was Brian and James who held the bulk of the attention, nearly an equal amount of attention was focused on the ex. If they were honest, people would admit that they were upset by Justin’s lack of reaction. The blonde went on smiling, waiting on the customers that found their way into Liberty Diner. 

At times it was almost a let down. Patrons wanted him to scream and shout, to protest or, at the very least, to act as though he cared that the love of his life was with someone else. Liberty’s citizens wanted to see their soap opera acted out and were upset to see that it was unlikely they would get it. 

To a select few it even appeared that Brian felt the same way as the rest. There was little more than a handful of them, but each of them noticed right away that Brian would up his performance as the perfect boyfriend whenever the blonde was nearby. 

“You love him, don’t you?” Lindsay demanded as she watched over Brian who was carefully pushing Gus on the baby swings at the park. 

Brian glanced over at her, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Jamie? I don’t know, I haven’t thought of it.” 

“Not Jamie. Justin. That little blonde who wormed his way into your heart,” Lindsay clarified, all the while grinning at her son who was waving madly in her direction. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Brian mumbled, glancing everywhere but in Lindsay’s direction. 

“Of course not,” Lindsay deadpanned, rising from her seat on the picnic table and making her way over to the swingset. “You just put your life on hold last year to help him get better. You gave him a home when he didn’t have one. You went to his prom, Bri. You gave a damn about him no matter what you might say.” 

“That has nothing to do with anything, Lindz. All that shit that happened to him was my fault so I owed it to him to make it better,” Brian informed her. “Once I paid up my debt, I moved on. Simple as that.” 

Lindsay gaped at him while reaching out to pick up her protesting son. “How can you be so blasé about it, Brian? What you and Justin shared.... Brian, I know you’re not an unfeeling bastard so stop acting like it. You cared about Justin. You still care about him. I know it.” 

“Believe whatever you want, Lindz, that doesn’t mean it will be the truth,” Brian told her, ruffling Gus’ hair as he passed by them on his way back to where he’d parked his jeep. “I gotta go. I’m meeting Jamie for dinner.” 

“Bye, Dadda!” 

“See ya, Sonnyboy.” 

Even though there were thousands of places in Pittsburgh that Brian and James could have eaten they ended up at Liberty Diner. It wasn’t odd or even unusual. 

Especially since Justin was working the late shift, same as he did every Saturday night. 

“Hey, Sunshine,” Brian greeted as he entered the diner, his arm draped across James’ shoulders. 

“Hey, Bri,” Justin nodded just before disappearing into the kitchen. “I’ll be out to take your order in just a minute.” 

Concealed within the kitchen, Justin let out a frustrated growl and dumped his bin of dirty dishes into the sink. He fumed for a few moments, fists pressed against the stainless steel surface of the counter before adopting one of his carefree wide smiles and heading back out into the main area of the diner. 

“All right, boys, what can I get you?” Justin asked as he approached the booth where Brian and James were sitting. 

Brian opened his mouth to speak, but Justin cut him off with-- 

“Turkey on whole wheat, hold the mayo. James?” 

The black-haired ex-football player, current freelance journalist smiled up at Justin, his green eyes twinkling. “Tex-mex chili and a big ol’ glass of skim milk, sugar.” 

“Water, Bri?” 

“Yeah.” 

For many of the diner’s patrons, encounters like that were as close as they could come to the fabled Showtime series whose lead, Liberty legend rumoured, as was always the case, was based off their own infamous Mr. Kinney. Enough of them had visited the baths during the year Brian and Justin had officially been together to fill in all the blanks that the cable show boasted. 

Friends and family, however, were not as amused by the antics of their most dramatic pair. And while Justin wasn’t exactly free, it was mostly Brian who found himself on the receiving end of one of their lectures. It was common knowledge, even among those who did not know them personally, that Brian and Justin were of two completely different personalities yet both maintained the same stubborn mindset where the other was concerned. They were merciless to each other yet could always count on the other to be there should the need arise. 

While nearly all of Liberty’s inhabitants were fully aware that Justin was Brian’s, regardless of what their personal relationship might indicate, there were still those who made unwelcome advances on the artist. If Brian happened to be around the unfortunate queer would soon realize the error of his ways. Just as many times it was Justin who could be counted on to drive Brian home if the ad exec was too drunk or tweaked out to get himself home. It was no secret, not even to James, that Justin spent the night on those instances but none, not even James, knew where he slept those nights. 

“Baby, you’ve got to stop letting him take advantage of you like that,” Emmett said to the blonde one night as Justin was about to rescue Brian from a horde of nasty looking bikers. “It’s Jamie’s job to look after him now.” 

“James isn’t here, though,” Justin pointed out.. “I am.” 

There was no one who didn’t fail to notice Justin’s stubborn refusal to refer to James other than by his given name. To everyone, even casual acquaintances, he was Jamie. Or Braden if they were a friend from college. All that it had taken was a single, lethal glare from the blonde to ensure that James did not call him anything other than Justin. 

The name issue aside, Justin and James got along better than anyone would have expected. 

However, there was another source of speculation among Pittsburgh’s queer population which had to do, entirely, with James’ appearance. The man, a year Brian’s senior, was as opposite as one could get from the artistic blonde that had carved himself a comfortable niche in Brian’s life two years before. James was tall, equal to Brian’s 6 foot 2 stature and possessed a shock of black hair that hung down over his deep set green eyes. He had broad shoulders and the hardened physique of a football player while managing to keep his weight at a steady 215lbs. And even though physically James was the more imposing figure it was Brian who stood out with his larger than life personality. 

Many theorized that the stark contrast between Justin and James was deliberate. That Brian was purposely trying to get as far away from Justin as possible at least on a physical aspect. There was no point in attempting to avoid Justin’s personality because there was no other Sunshine. 

“So it’s just coincidence that Jamie’s the anti-Justin?” Michael asked, his face buried in the box of new comics in front of him so he missed Brian’s immediate scowl. By the time he looked up, Brian’s face was as impassive as ever. 

“The anti-Justin? I think you’ve been inhaling too many printer fumes from your comics, Mikey. In case you haven’t noticed Justin is a real person and not some cheesy ass comic book character,” Brian grumbled, scrubbing his hands over his face. 

“Actually, he is,” Michael smirked, this time being treated to the full effect of Rage’s scowl. 

On the Rage front, each separate issue was bought up almost as soon as Michael put it on the shelves at the beginning of each month. A majority of them bought it not for the brilliant artwork or the stories they contained, but to watch the development of Rage and JT’s seemingly non-relationship. Each glance and word that passed between the two characters was analyzed and discussed and eventually related back to their living personas. The simple fact that Rage and JT seemed constantly drawn to each other was, to some, undisputed proof that Babylon’s king and Liberty’s top stud were drawn to each other as well. Whether their relationship had worked its way back into the physical remained to be seen. 

“What time did you want me at the show?” 

The comment was made casually enough but to everyone except Justin himself it was a shocking one. 

“Seven-thirty, I guess,” Justin shrugged, setting a cup of coffee in front of Brian who sat at the counter in front of him. 

“My dick appearing anywhere?” Brian questioned with a knowing smirk. 

A smirk which Justin returned immediately. “You’ll just have to wait and find out.” 

Every person who had been at the diner at the time made sure to arrive at the aforementioned art show at seven-thirty, finding a spot close to the young artist’s work. They were there to see the performance between their two stars rather than to view any art, though no one outwardly admitted to it. 

And were all shocked to discover a third performer in the drama when Brian arrived with his arm draped across James’ shoulders. If Justin thought there was anything odd about the other man’s presence, he gave no outward indication. On the contrary, he smiled brightly at their appearance, even going so far as to accept a kiss on the cheek from the man who had replaced him in Brian’s life. 

Much to the disappointment of many of the queer’s present, there was no sign of Brian’s cock on any of the five canvases Justin had displayed. There was, however, a very intimate portrait of him stretched out across a very modern looking black leather chaise-- a fortunate few recognizing it as a piece of furniture from the loft --dressed in only a pair of half unbuttoned faded jeans. His right hand, the one with the cowry shell bracelet marking the place where wrist met forearm, was resting on his stomach, fingers partially curled and fanned out over the tanned skin. His left hand was curled into a loose fist, index finger protruding to scratch at an eyebrow. Eyes half closed, mouth a little slack and hair in a complete disarray, Brian appeared every inch the troubled loner made famous by James Dean. 

None were close enough to hear the words spoken between the two yet were unsurprised when Brian pulled Justin into a lingering kiss. It was hardly the sexual foreplay they were well known for but instead spoke hidden volumes of an understanding known only to the former lovers. 

Brian and James left soon after and with them the majority of the gawkers. A few remained to get a closer look at the nearly life-sized painting of their own living legend. A perfect rendering of their mortal god. 

And they knew, without a doubt, that the teen still had feelings for the other man. 

It wasn’t entirely obvious, but around Christmas a change began to take place. It was first brought to light in the holiday issue of Rage that featured a new villain. A slick corporate raider who acted as a pimp to homeless twinks in his offhours. Somehow JT ended up in the pimp’s clutches, much to Rage’s dismay. Even though they knew they should have expected it, the readers on Liberty Avenue were still shocked to see James Braden’s countenance staring up at them from page three of the comic. It wasn’t an exact copy, but close enough to the actual person that there was no mistaking who the artist had chosen for his subject. Not a word of it was spoken aloud by the three key players, four if the comic’s writer was included. At least not on Liberty itself. The implications, however, were right there for all to see. 

James Braden, it seemed, wasn’t as squeaky clean as he appeared. 

Seeing him and Brian together was still a frequent occurrence and Justin didn’t act any different towards the journalist. It was Michael’s reactions to the outsider-- for James had not been privy to the inner sanctum long enough to be considered a full member --whether unconscious or not, that were the most telling. For whatever reason, Michael Novotny had an inability to keep what he was feeling from his face. It was the exact opposite with Brian and Justin who kept everything from their faces. Had either of them possessed an interest in poker they would have been experts simply because they could keep their expressions blank. 

“Did you eat something bad, Mikey?” Brian asked as he stared across the pool table at his friend. 

Michael glanced up at Brian, scowled, then turned his attention back to his shot, sinking the white ball. “Fuck!” 

“Easy, babe,” Ben soothed, wrapping his arms around his lover’s waist. “Don’t let him fuck up your chi.” 

That got Michael snickering. “It’s hardly guru-like when you swear.” 

“You listen to professor perfect, hun, and don’t let Brian get to you,” Emmett spoke up, raising his Cosmopolitan towards Michael in silent toast. 

“I didn’t even do anything,” Brian protested amidst Justin’s gales of laughter. 

Everyone expected an outburst of some sort from Brian as a result of Justin’s laughter. Instead he started to laugh as well, nudging Justin with his hip. The whispers nearly became outright gasps when Brian grabbed hold of the front of Justin’s tee and pulled him out towards the small area at Woody’s used for dancing. 

And even with James watching on, the pair danced just as close and with just as much sexual electricity as they had when they’d been Liberty’s hottest couple. Their bodies grinding together, arms draped across shoulders or wrapped around slender waists, foreheads touching. It was as though a time warp had taken place and the entire bar had been transported back a year to when Brian and Justin were the ruling couple. 

The most unusual thing of all was that James did not seem to be reacting. He just stood there with the rest, watching as Brian and Justin shared an incredibly heated dance. And even though each person caught up in the drama was straining to hear what was being said between the two, none could determine the source of the matching smirk on the pair’s faces. 

“Care to share what that was all about?” James asked as he wound his arms around Brian, pulling the other man against him. 

“It was dancing,” Brian shrugged, leaning back against James’ broad chest. “You hate it so I grabbed my old dancing partner to help scratch an itch.” 

The only one who did not react to that explanation were Brian and Justin. James unwound his arms from around Brian’s torso and took several steps back. As everyone watched on, James continued to back up then turned and stalked out of Woody’s. Brian didn’t even bother to watch his lover’s retreat, instead picking up a pool cue and taking a shot. 

“Bri, you should go after him,” Michael prodded, going to stand next to his best friend. “What you did was kinda heartless.” 

Brian rolled his eyes in Michael’s direction. “Dancing with Justin is heartless? Are you completely fucked? I always dance with Justin.” 

“Yeah, he always does,” Justin confirmed, mirroring Brian’s expression. 

“But you’re in a relationship now, Brian. That means no fucking around with your ex,” Michael growled, glaring at the other man. 

“Who’s fucking around?” Brian and Justin asked simultaneously. 

“All that we did was dance,” Justin reiterated. 

Not one to go across his own credo, Brian did nothing about James’ storming out of the bar. And, for two days, the two men were not seen together. On the third day, however, Brian and James showed up together for breakfast at the diner, arms casually draped across shoulders. 

“Hey, Bri, James,” Justin greeted as the pair slid into their usual booth. 

Brian returned Justin’s automatic smile as he situated himself against the wall, sitting lengthwise on the seat. “Morning, Sunshine. Coffee.” 

“You know--” 

“Don’t even start,” Brian smirked, pointing a finger in the teen’s direction. “You’re not going to get me to give up coffee. You’ve been trying for two years and it hasn’t worked yet. It’s not going to either.” 

Justin held up his hands in surrender and backed up towards the counter. “Fine, but don’t come crying to me when you can’t get it up.” 

Incidents such as that became the norm. In public, at least, Brian and Justin were on very friendly terms. That the pair were flirting with each other no one disputed. It was impossible to deny. 

Which was why they were confused all the more when Justin showed up with a boyfriend of his own after a short absence from all things related to Liberty Avenue. 

To some, it was a form of retaliation when Justin began seeing gorgeous redhead with a few years on him in age. And unlike his reaction when Brian and James had become an item, the ad exec was less than impressed by that particular turn of events. The first time the new duo had been seen together on the dance floor at Babylon, all but fucking in the middle of the crowd, Brian had gone on a rampage, downing half a dozen shots of Absolut in rapid succession. 

“Why do you care what he’s doing, Bri?” Michael demanded as he joined his best friend at the bar. “So Justin has someone to fuck? Why does it bother you?” 

“It doesn’t bother me,” Brian insisted seconds before downing shot number seven. 

“Sure it doesn’t,” Michael placated him, intercepting the eighth shot before Brian got to it. “You’d better slow down or I’m gonna have to call Jamie so that he can come and drag your ass home.” 

“Fuck off, Mikey,” Brian growled, glaring daggers at his friend. 

“Not likely. Now come on, dance with me,” Michael ordered, already dragging Brian towards the dance floor. 

For all of two beats, Brian danced with his best friend. Before even a single line of lyrics had been sung, the taller man was already stalking in the direction of his blonde twink. Even if their relationship had been over for a decade the queers of Liberty Avenue would have known that Justin still belonged to Brian. And though not a single one would say it out loud, Brian belonged to Justin just as much. That truth could not be spoken out loud, though, unless the speaker was eager for his own demise. 

Without pausing, Brian wound his arm around Justin’s waist, yanking the blonde away from his date and towards the exit. Justin gave a cry of protest and immediately began trying to get away from Brian. The ad exec’s grip was too strong and eventually he gave up and twisted his body so that he was no longer walking sideways. 

There were quite a bit of whispers as the Babylon crowd did their best to not watch the royal non-couple made their way out of the club, arms around each other in a very possessive way. Those that were coming in and could see their faces would confirm that they portrayed equally possessive expressions. 

And appeared that way the next morning at the Liberty Diner. 

Together, with their arms wound each other and their faces close. There was no denying the well fucked aura the pair were giving off. 

The reunited rulers of queer Pittsburgh were followed almost immediately by a second pair that caused jaws to drop throughout the diner. 

James Braden and the nameless redhead who looked as sated as Brian and Justin and just as involved. 

“You know, Bri, all that you had to tell me was that you wanted me back before you started this fucked up game of yours,” Justin chastised as he cut into his plate of Belgium waffles. “You would have gotten fucked on a regular basis.” 

Brian arched an eyebrow. “And just how do you know that I wasn’t getting fucked on a regular basis?” 

“‘Cause Jamie told me. He went to France to visit Donovan when he wanted to get fucked,” the blonde giggled, using his fork to point at the redhead who’d been his date the night before. He then let out a yelp and jerked slightly which led everyone to believe that he’d gotten his ass pinched by Brian. “Sorry, I mean, he went on ‘assignment.’” 

“And just how do you know that I wasn’t getting any?” 

“Oh please, Bri. You know that I would have heard about it if your fucking got out of control like it did last summer,” Justin said with a roll of his eyes. “I still can’t believe that you lasted so long. Eight months. How long would you have let it go on if Donovan hadn’t come back from exchange?” 

“Well if a certain writer hadn’t spilled the beans about what was going on, you still wouldn’t be any wiser,” Brian said with a pointed look in James’ direction. 

James chuckled quietly, draping an arm across what was apparently his boyfriend’s shoulders, stealing the strawberry from the fork Donovan had been in the process of lifting to his mouth. Grinning at his lover’s mock scowl, James removed his arm and popped the strawberry into his own mouth. “Don was back and I had more than enough research done for my book. I got my insider view on advertising from my old roommate and a larger than life personality as my subject.... I really do feel sorry for you, Justin.” 

The blonde grinned broadly, leaning into Brian as the older man pulled Justin towards him. 

The Libertarians weren’t sure whether or not to be offended by the fact that they’d been duped the entire time by the master of ceremonies himself. He’d played all of them, even Justin, for eight months and no one had been any the wiser. 

“But don’t think for one moment that you’re off the hook,” Justin threatened, smirking over at Brian. “Your ass is mine till I say otherwise.”


End file.
